


The Case of the Crying Statues

by 42HouseStark42



Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV), Supernatural, Superwholock - Fandom
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Johnlock - Freeform, Johnlock Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-24
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-16 22:24:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1363918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/42HouseStark42/pseuds/42HouseStark42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Tenth Doctor finds Sherlock and John investigating  some strange angel statue sightings in the woods of Dewer's Hollow. Sherlock and John follow him to the Tardis and are gathered outside when they see a 1967 Chevy Impala driving down the road. Dean and Sam get out and Castiel appears a few minutes later. All of them walk into the Tardis and are transported to 221B Baker Street where they continue to investigate the Weeping Angels, a case involving Crowley and Moriarty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Case of the Crying Statues

The Case of the Crying Statues  
Chapter1  
Late one night a mysterious man in a long brown coat was walking purposefully down a narrow forest path. This was not a friendly forest, and any normal person would have been running in terror, trying to pass through this area as fast as they possibly could, but this was not a normal man. Very few knew of this man’s existence, and even if they did it was only through fleeting rumors and old forgotten legends. Eventually the man came to the end of his intended path, and found himself standing at the edge of a misty hollow. As his eyes traversed his surroundings his gaze fell upon a tall man in a long dark blue coat, with curly black hair and an air of confidence about him that was definitely on the side of arrogance. The mysterious man could feel this aura even from a distance. Next his eyes fell upon the curly haired man’s companion, a rather short fellow who looked pretty ordinary as far as the mysterious man could tell. Despite this, the man could tell that the shorter fellow had the cool persona and poise of a well- trained soldier. With all of his assessments complete, the mysterious man continued down into the hollow and walked over to the two men to introduce himself. As the mysterious man became level with the tall curly haired man the light of recognition dawned in his eyes:  
“Oh, you are kidding me! no way!” taking a short pause to collect himself he continued: “Sherlock Holmes! THE Sherlock Holmes! It’s a pleasure to meet you indeed.”  
Off to the side John questioned Sherlock quietly, slightly confused: “Ummm Sherlock, do you know who this is?”   
For a moment Sherlock was silent, assessing the situation and trying to figure out who this man could possibly be. He could tell that this man had seen many things, and had more than his share of pain and heartbreak, but his appearance was so young! He was tall and slender with very pointy brown hair and a young flawless face, but when Sherlock met the man’s gaze directly he could see the ancient wisdom and pain in his eyes. After gleaning all of the information he could, Sherlock spoke: “No John, I’ve never seen this man before.” Uncomfortable with the fact that he couldn’t tell this man’s life story right away, Sherlock fumed silently for a minute.   
Breaking the silent tension, John glanced at Sherlock and then turned to the man: “All right then, so who are you anyway?”  
Finally the mysterious man revealed his identity with a slight smile and tilt of his head: “I’m the Doctor, it’s a great honor to meet you both by the way.”  
Still confused John questioned: “Just… the Doctor. Doctor Who?”  
Moving forward the man continued: “Just the Doctor. But really this is brilliant! Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson, the stuff of legends!” the Doctor now had a huge grin on his face and moved to shake hands with John and Sherlock.   
Now returning to his element Sherlock broke his silence and asserted: “Since you’re here in Dewer’s Hollow with us, I assume that you know something of the crying statues as well?”  
A small shadow of recognition and anticipation passed across the Doctor’s face: “Ah, so that’s why the Tardis brought me here, didn’t know why that was for a minute there. I set the coordinates for raxacoricofallapatorius, but this is definitely just an England forest. But honestly, we’re all in terrible danger. These crying statues that you mentioned are in fact deadly creatures called the Weeping Angels, or the Lonely Assassins if you like.”  
Interrupting the flow of the Doctor’s words John broke in: “But what are they, these weeping angels, where do they come from? And what’s the Tardis?”  
Realizing that John and Sherlock were a bit confused the Doctor stopped to explain further: “Oh right sorry. Time travel, it’s all wibbly wobbly. I forget sometimes that most people don’t know about aliens or parallel dimensions.”  
Still rather uncomfortable John stated: “Well that still doesn’t really tell us who you are, and how you got here.”  
Finally deigning to state his opinion Sherlock broke in: “Well based off of scientific fact and formula, time travel and aliens are theoretically possible. There’s too much space and planets in existence for it to be otherwise, but...”  
Suddenly John interrupted: “But you said the solar system wasn’t important, how would you know if time travel and aliens were possible or not?”  
With an exasperated groan Sherlock continued: “It isn’t important John! But that doesn’t mean it isn’t possible.”  
Looking awkwardly from Sherlock to John the Doctor entered the conversation again: “As long as Sherlock believes time travel and aliens ARE possible, then we can get back to other things, such as the angels attacking us.”  
Pausing once more the Doctor turned back to Sherlock and said: “Make sure John is following, will you?”  
And with that the Doctor once again continued to describe the alien race that was currently threatening them: “The Weeping Angels were created long ago by my people, an ancient alien race called the Timelords. They’re basically made of living stone, and they hunt by only moving when you look away from them. At a glance they just look like normal statues, an angel covering its eyes…., seeming to become distracted for a minute the Doctor trailed off a thought with a sideways dip of his head and shrug of his shoulders: “hence the weeping, but anyway as I was saying once you’ve turned away they move with deathly quick speed. One touch from them and you get sent back anywhere into the past, completely disappearing from this point in time. The angels then feed of the energy you would have had in this life, and you live out your life again in the past. They’re the only psychopaths in the universe to kill you nicely, no mess no fuss they just zap you into the past and let you live to death.”   
Suddenly there was a slight grinding of stone from the top of the hollow. The three seeming companions whipped around to face the sound, the only light coming from the beams of Sherlock and John’s flashlights, but then the bulbs of the flashlights started to flicker.  
The Doctor spoke with urgency: “They’re trying to turn out your flashlights and leave us in complete darkness, and that can’t be allowed to happen” reaching inside his coat he pulled out a device that looked like a screwdriver with a blue light on the end. The Doctor pointed the device at the angel, and as he did, the device made a slight buzzing/whirring sound. Speaking to Sherlock and John the Doctor stated: “You’ll have to use the light from this; it’s a sonic screwdriver by the way.”   
Turning an intense gaze on Sherlock he began: “I know you don’t like having someone more informed than you in the room, or taking orders, but you have to trust me.” Something in the Doctor’s eyes convinced Sherlock that he had to let him take the lead on this one, and with a slight nod of his head he allowed the Doctor to continue: “Right then, now that that’s settled, you need to listen to me very carefully. These words could be the difference between you and John getting out alive or dead……don’t turn your back, don’t look away, and whatever you do, don’t blink. Keep your eyes fixed on that statue.” Sherlock and John exchanged glances, and then all three turned to fix their unwavering gazes on the angel.  
Chapter 2  
As the angel continued to lurch forward with frightening speed, the Doctor moved hurriedly around the perimeter of the hollow, scanning the entire area with his sonic screwdriver.  
Quickly he explained to Sherlock and John: “I’m scanning the area for signs of any other angels, so far there seems to be just this one, but others are bound to be not far behind. The angels prefer to move in groups, or packs if that seems more fitting, seeing as we’re in a hollow on a moor straight out of the Hound of the Baskervilles.” With a little sideways smile to Sherlock and John he interjected: “Although I suppose you two know much more about that than I do.”  
Now it was Sherlock’s turn to show the Doctor that he wasn’t the only genius in the room: “As a matter of fact, that’s why John and I are here. A man came to our flat, practically begging me to listen to his story and take the case he was describing, the whole childhood trauma and brutal murder of his father tale that one hears every day. The whole thing sounded rather boring and ordinary, until he was describing how his father was killed, attacked by a gigantic HOUND. He said HOUND not dog, a rather archaic word, which led me to believe that there was actually something interesting going on at Baskerville after all. Although I am curious, why did you say: “something straight out of the Hound of the Baskervilles?” There aren’t any books by that name that I’ve heard of, and if there were they would be about me, and I would know if there was a book written about me.”  
Realizing that he had made a mistake the Doctor absentmindedly tried to patch up the situation: “Oh right, sorry, time travel again. Wrong timeline. The famous Sherlock Holmes novels haven’t been written in this universe. I have to stop doing that.”  
Now John joined in: “But there are books written about Sherlock and me, in some universe?”  
Sherlock interrupted: “Well I would hope so. Your blog has described all of our adventures in detail, with me re-writing everything of importance of course, but who wouldn’t want to write about me?”  
John rolled his eyes: “You REALLY need to work on your modesty Sherlock.”   
Now extremely agitated with the proximity of the angel, his eyes had been fixed on it throughout John and Sherlock’s conversation, the Doctor shouted: “Oi! You two! Stop flirting and pay attention to the angel!”   
With that settled he continued: “Unfortunately, living stone is almost impossible to kill, and we can’t defeat it until we get back to the Tardis, so as soon as I take my eyes off this angel, run as fast as you possibly can in the direction you saw me come from.”  
Exchanging glances, Sherlock and John decided to do what the Doctor said, and got ready to run.  
Now that he knew everyone was on the same page, the Doctor prepared to take his eyes off the statue, and said one last thing: “Right then, now that we’re all prepared……Allons-y!!!” and in one smooth motion, he turned from the statue and sprinted up the side of the hollow, with Sherlock and John right by his side.  
The three sped down the forest path, the Doctor and Sherlock’s coats whipping in the breeze, branches scratching at their faces. Finally they broke out into a clearing close by the side of the main road, and out of the mist rose a blue police box.   
Sherlock and John both paused outside the doors, and it was John who spoke: “That’s the Tardis? It’s just an old London police box.”  
With a slight sigh of exasperation the Doctor asserted: “Yes it is…. Now get inside quickly!”  
With a sigh of his own, John continued inside with Sherlock right behind him. Expecting to enter a cramped telephone booth, John stopped suddenly, his mouth dropping open, and stuttered: “It’s….it’s bigger….on the inside, but how is that…..”  
Just then Sherlock bumped into John from behind and started: “John what are you……”and then he saw what John had paused for.  
For a moment Sherlock was completely silent, unmoving with no expression on his face; and then he began to talk in rapid fire sentences, trying to make sense of what he was seeing: “But that’s not possible! How is this possible? You can’t have a large space inside of a small space, it defies logic, but might technically be possible based on physics and theories of other dimensions…….maybe a portal to another dimension, somehow a bit out of sync with our world, enabling it to contain a large capacity inside a small space…..”  
At this point in Sherlock’s line of thought the Doctor cut in: “Exactly!!!! A portal to another dimension, just a few seconds out of sync at any point in time and space.” “Now there’s the legendary genius Sherlock Holmes I know! Back with us?”  
Now coming back to his senses, but still a bit flustered Sherlock answered: “Yes, of course. This is technically possible, but how does it work exactly?”  
A huge grin lit up the Doctor’s face and he beamed to Sherlock: “Yes! Finally someone I can explain this to who will understand! Controlling it isn’t that hard really, as long as you’re good with physics, and common logic.”  
Sherlock glided over to the console with the Doctor, now making sure to re-establish his confident poise, and the two explored the different levers and buttons of the control system, the Doctor occasionally exclaiming things like: “Yes!, exactly!, and, brilliant!”   
Meanwhile John stood off to the side, watching the two acting like little kids who’d just made friends at a toy store, and shouted mostly to himself: “Don’t mind me then, you two geniuses just have fun exploring your intellectual capacities!”  
Just as John started towards the only chair in the room, planning to sit down, there came thumping from outside the front door of the Tardis…….  
Hearing these noises the Doctor exclaimed: “Ah! I should never stop and chat when the universe is in danger! Always ends badly.”  
And with that, he began to flip switches on the console, explaining to Sherlock and John all the while: “The angels are trying to get inside, yes there’s more than one now, I’m going to fly the Tardis across the road aways, that should give us enough time to come up with a plan.”  
The Tardis shuddered and shook slightly, as it always did when it began to take off, and made a sound that couldn’t really be described. It was unique to the Tardis, and one would just have to hear it to understand.  
This was all completely normal to the Doctor of course, but Sherlock and John had no idea if these sounds and motions were normal or not. Hanging on for dear life Sherlock and John gripped the sides of the console, until the shuddering stopped and all was still.  
As soon as the Tardis landed the Doctor ran to the door and stepped outside. Popping his head back in he called to Sherlock and John: “You can come outside for now, we’re far enough away from the angels to be safe for a bit.”  
Still a little shaky from their short journey, John and Sherlock walked outside, and were astonished to find that they had ended up on the other side of the road in an empty field. The Tardis hadn’t seemed like it had moved at all, they had just materialized where the Doctor wanted them to go.  
Realizing that they needed a minute the Doctor said: “Take a minute to catch your breath, but when you’re done, do either of you know who that is driving towards us?”  
Sherlock and John turned to look where the Doctor was pointing, but only John was able to make sense of what they were seeing. With a hint of astonishment in his voice John stated: “But, that’s a 1967 Chevy Impala. What’s an American car doing in England?”  
Chapter 3

After John’s comment, Sherlock turned to him and questioned: “How do you know what type of automobile that is?”  
Looking a bit embarrassed John replied: “Cars are a sort of hobby of mine, especially classic models, like this one coming down the road.”  
With a slight smile on his face Sherlock commented: “I think that’s a lovely hobby John, very useful.”  
Turning to Sherlock with an expression of surprise on his face John changed his expression to a huge grin. He had expected Sherlock to scoff and make some snarky comment about how cars didn’t matter, but apparently that wasn’t the case.  
Finally the Impala drew level with them and two figures got out. The man on the driver’s side slammed the car door while angrily complaining: “Son of a bitch! Why do people in Europe have to drive on the other side of the road?! I mean those “coffee shops” in Amsterdam were great, I mean really awesome, but why can’t they drive on the same side of the road as us! I hate Europe.”  
With a smirk of amusement on his face the angry man’s tall companion spoke: “All right, calm down Dean it’s not a big deal. You want me to drive while we’re here?”  
Regaining his composure Dean replied: “No Sam, I can handle it……” breaking off his train of thought Dean looked over and spotted Sherlock, John, and the Doctor standing by the side of the road. Still angry from the idiocy of driving in England he shouted: “Who the hell are you?!”  
Taking control of the situation before things got out of hand Sam broke in: “Sorry about him, he can be kind of a jerk sometimes.” Behind Sam, Dean rolled his eyes. Sam continued: “We’re police officers, I’m Sam and he’s Dean. We heard about some disappearances in the area and came to investigate, have you seen anything strange lately?”  
Walking forward to stand next to Sam Dean scolded: “God dammit Sam, why did you tell them our real names?!”  
Still amused at his brother’s obvious frustration Sam answered: “Dean we’re in England, no one here knows who we are. Stop being a pussy.”  
Not wanting to be upstaged by Sam, Dean tried to regain control of the situation. Continuing with Sam’s statement Dean questioned again: “Like he said, have you seen anything strange lately? Anything we could use as a lead on the missing people?”  
Stepping forward Sherlock joined the conversation: “You aren’t policemen. I can tell by your clothes that you are trying to pass as private detectives, but doing a poor job of it. Your suits are entirely the wrong color and starting to become worn around the cuffs and collars. There are small scuff and dirt marks on your shoes, suggesting you don’t take the time to clean them, and private detectives always make sure their shoes are shiny and new, as well as their suits. Sam’s hair is too long to be acceptable for the police force, and Dean acts far too immature to pass the test that private detectives on the police force have to pass. Also, your car, accents, mannerisms, and overall appearances tell me you’re American. The British police force would never hire American detectives. Conclusion: You’re brothers from the United States who solve strange cases for a living and decided to go international when you heard of a strange case in England too good to pass up.”  
When Sherlock paused for breath Dean broke in: “How the hell do you……”  
Not giving him time to finish his sentence Sherlock continued with his deductions: “I can tell that you’re brothers simply by observing your behavior. You argue constantly like an old married couple, but you aren’t a couple, because Dean obviously has someone else he’s in love with. Now, the fact that Sam offered to drive for Dean and Dean refused, leads me to conclude that Sam is the younger brother, and not the true owner of the car. If Sam owned the car he would be the one driving and not the passenger most of the time.”  
Dean could contain himself no longer and shouted: “HOW THE HELL DO YOU KNOW ALL OF THIS?!, and secondly, who do you think I’m in love with?”  
Smirking Sherlock began again: “Well, I would say the man in the trench coat standing behind you who has been staring at you the entire time has something to do with that.”  
A look of exasperation and annoyance passed over Dean’s face as he turned around: “Dammit Cas!!!! I told you to stop doing that!!!”  
Looking slightly embarrassed, Cas tilted his head and looked down at the ground: “Sorry Dean, I didn’t mean to startle you.”  
Turning slightly to try and hide his smile from the others Dean replied: “It’s all right Cas, glad you decided to show up buddy.”  
Looking very pleased with himself Sherlock asserted: “And he just proved my theory exactly.”  
Dean started to contradict him: “We’re not……”  
But Sherlock was having none of it. Cutting Dean off he replied: “Yes you are. The gestures and body language from both of you tell the undisputable truth.”  
“Now if we can move on to more important things, such as the angels trying to destroy us that would be brilliant.”  
At the mention of angels attacking them Cas broke in frantically: “What angels?! Tell me their names and I will deal with them immediately.” “They should not be involved in an affair such as this.”  
The Doctor, Sherlock, and John all turned to look at Cas, slightly taken aback  
Finally, it was the Doctor who spoke: “Do you know about the Weeping angels? I thought I was the only alien here.”  
Now it was Cas’s turn to look confused: “The Weeping angels….? Why are they crying? My people don’t cry easily.”  
The light of understanding suddenly dawned in the Doctor’s eyes: “Ohhhhh I see. You think I’m talking about actual angels, not angel statues, weeell, statues in a certain sense of the word.”   
Sherlock now entered back into the conversation: “Well Cas, if you know so much about angels as you say, then who and what are you exactly?”  
Cas replied: “I am an angel of the lord.”  
Looking completely dumbfounded John interjected: “Hold on a minute….you’re saying that angels actually exist? Real, glowing, heavenly angels? You can’t be serious.”  
Dean and Sam said at the same time: “Oh he’s serious.”   
Then Dean continued: “We didn’t believe it at first either, but here he is.”  
Now Cas spoke: “I am allowed to demonstrate a minor miracle in order to prove that I am in fact an angel.”  
Turning to the side Cas suddenly flung out his arm and smashed the passenger side window of the Impala. Not more than a second later Cas put his hand where the window had been and closed his eyes. Seemingly by itself the shards of the window flew back together and the window was once again in place. It was completely undamaged and looked as if it had never been broken.  
Getting over the shock of seeing the window of his beloved car being shattered, Dean fumed: “Son of a bitch Cas! Baby is completely off limits! You can’t just shatter one of here windows like that!”  
Sam stood behind Dean trying not to laugh, but it was Sherlock who said something first: “Did you just call your car baby?”  
Still furious from what Cas had done Dean yelled: “Ya! You got a problem with that?!”  
John, seeing that the situation was spiraling out of control interrupted: “All right, all right, girls calm down.”  
After being called a girl, Dean shut up immediately and gave John his famous “bitch face”. Sherlock simply turned to John and raised his eyebrows.   
Satisfied that the crisis had been averted, John ignored both of them and turned to the Doctor: “Right then, so how much time do you think we have before the angels start coming after us again?”  
In reply the Doctor said: “Actually, I see one at the edge of the forest right across the road. We need to leave now, everyone into the Tardis.”  
Dean and Sam exchanged glances and then turned to the Doctor  
Asking the question for both of them Sam said: “What do you mean everyone into the Tardis? What’s the Tardis?”  
Becoming more worried the Doctor replied: “Don’t have time to explain now, the angels are coming. You’ll just have to trust me.”  
Without a backwards glance the Doctor whirled around and swept into the police box, John and Sherlock at his heels.   
Dean and Sam, deciding that the danger was too close to hesitate followed Sherlock and John’s lead and started towards the police box.  
Just before Sam put his hand on the door to enter Dean said: “This is so freakin weird.”  
Sam nodded in agreement, but the two of them continued forward, all the way into the phone booth.  
Expecting to be completely cramped when they entered Sam and Dean were utterly awestruck when they found themselves inside a cavernous control room.  
Dean was the first to speak: “What the hell?! How is there this much room in here? I’ve seen plenty of weird, but this really takes the cake.”  
Sam just nodded in agreement; Dean had described his thoughts exactly.  
Cas was the last to enter, but he wasn’t nearly as surprised as the others. Nothing much surprised Cas anymore, and so he decided to accept the evidence of his eyes.  
Moving past Sam and Dean Cas addressed the Doctor: “So how do we defeat these…Weeping angels as you call them? I have a celestial blade that can kill angels.”  
Taken aback at the mention of killing the Doctor said: “No no no. They’re made of stone and can’t be killed by any blade, celestial or not. And even if they could be, we don’t want to kill them. I always talk to them first, give them a chance before stooping to violent levels.”  
Tilting his head in confusions Cas continued: “Well they do take the form of angels, they must be related to us somehow. I think my blade will have some effect if absolutely necessary.”  
Pleased with Cas’s answer the Doctor turned to the others: “Good. So how are you coping? You all right? Sam, Dean?”  
Still completely weirded out, Sam replied for the both of them: “We’ll be all right, just tell us what’s going on.”  
The Doctor quickly described their situation: “We’re being attacked by an ancient alien race called the Weeping angels, if they so much as touch you, you get sent back in time and they feed off of the energy you would have had in this life. At first glance they look like normal angel statues, but as soon as you look away, even blink, they can move frighteningly fast.”  
All the while as he was speaking, the Doctor was whirling around the console, flipping switches and looking at the one monitor anchored to the console.   
All of a sudden the Doctor flipped one last lever, and the Tardis began to shudder and vibrate.  
Right at this moment, Dean lost his cool. He hated flying, and he had had no warning in advance from the Doctor that they would have been able to move anywhere in this police box.  
Coping in the only way he knew how, Dean held on to the railing by the door for dear life, and began a string of curses: “Son of a bitch! How the hell did I get myself into this! Goddamit! Freaking crazy lunatic in a trench coat! I hate flying!.....”  
Finally, all was still. Dean took a deep breath and stopped his cursing, turning to the Doctor once again he asked: “What the hell just happened? How did we move, and where are we?!”   
Not concerned at all by what had just happened the Doctor replied: “The Tardis is a time and space machine. It can go anywhere I want to go. And as for where we are, we are at 221B Baker Street, Sherlock and John’s flat in London. We can establish a home base and go over a plan on how to stop the angels.”  
And with that, the Doctor turned and strode out of the Tardis, Sherlock and John right behind him.   
Staying behind for a minute, Dean asked Cas: “Do you trust them? You’re usually pretty good at reading people.”  
Cas replied: “For the moment yes, I think we can trust them.”  
Satisfied with his answer Dean said: “Well all right then.” And the three of them turned and followed the Doctor, Sherlock, and John out the door of the Tardis.  
As Dean, Sam, and Cas joined the others, the flat was already a hive of activity. Sherlock and the Doctor were rapidly discussing plans in one corner of the room, while John searched for maps of London on the computer.  
Now completely back to normal, Dean commented: “Eew more research. Make yourself at home Sam. I’ll be ready when you need someone to do the heavy lifting, or make plans for an attack.”  
Hearing this the Doctor joined in: “We won’t be attacking anyone. Just observing and gathering information. It’s purely scouting.”  
Rolling his eyes Dean replied: “Ya, whatever Doc. But if someone named Crowley turns up in all of this, you need to let us take the lead.”  
Confusion passed over the Doctor’s face, and he asked Dean: “Who’s Crowley, and why is he a problem?”  
Figuring that he should probably tell them everything he knew, Dean began: “We didn’t just come all the way here because we found a strange case, you can find those anywhere, we came because we got a tip from a demon that Crowley was in England. Crowley is basically the King of Hell, lead demon and the worst of them all. If he’s in England looking for the same thing we are, it can only mean that he wants to use it for something evil. And we have to stop him before he gets that chance. If Crowley gets a hold of something like the Weeping Angels, we are all seriously screwed.”  
Once again John broke in: “Really? First angels and now demons. Who are you people really, and how do you know all of this?”  
Dean replied: “We’re hunters. We track and kill monsters and save lives by doing it. Any monster you’ve ever heard of or could possibly think of is real, and it’s our job to make sure that we get rid of as many as possible. There are a lot of others like us out there, but my brother and I have been doing this job together since we were kids. Lately though things have gotten a lot bigger, and the angels and the King of Hell are now involved. Cas has been helping us out, so we know all about this kind of stuff. I suggest you let us take the wheel on this one.”  
Now it was the Doctor’s turn to intercede: “I see that you’re the experts on that type of thing, but we haven’t found Crowley yet, or even really proved that he’s involved, so until we do, the issue is just about the Weeping Angels and that’s my area of expertise. I’m the only one who knows how to deal with them, so if we can all work together on this for now, and follow my lead it will all go a lot smoother.”  
Seemingly mollified, Dean backed down and agreed. For some reason, he really trusted the Doctor, and the rest of these people, and he didn’t quite know why. Dean had a hard time trusting anyone, let alone random strangers, but this time was different.  
“All right then, let’s do this. Tell us everything you know Doc.” Dean said as he walked over to the kitchen table.  
Chapter 4  
With everyone gathered around the table the Doctor laid out his game plan “So as far as Sherlock and I can tell, the angels have only been attacking people in one specific area of London. Usually they take over whole planets, so something is already wibbly wobbly right there. However, the area they have been attacking happens to be very close to us, at the cemetery just a few blocks down the street. Whenever someone goes to pay their respects to a loved one, they go in and never come out. The local police force has chalked all of these up to kidnappings, or mysterious disappearances.”  
Sherlock interceded: “God they are so useless. The only one sensible enough to turn everything over to me is Lestrade, and he’s getting plenty of flak for that from his superiors. I’m positive it has something to do with Moriarty….”  
Just then Sam broke in: “Wait, Moriarty? Who’s Moriarty?”  
Sherlock and John exchanged glances then Sherlock began to explain: “Moriarty is the most brilliant criminal mastermind in all of existence. He is also completely insane, and the most dangerous man you will ever meet. Not to mention he’s more than a little obsessed with destroying me.”  
Taken aback by the force of Sherlock’s description, Dean hesitated a minute and then commented: “Well we’ve battled Lucifer himself, so I don’t think this Moriarty character is going to be anything we can’t handle.”  
Giving Dean his usual smirk, Sherlock added: “You would be surprised.”  
Now the Doctor continued: “The first thing we need to do is scout out this cemetery and see how many angels we’re really dealing with, and if Crowley and Moriarty are involved. If they are, I say we let Dean and Sherlock take over from there. Now, who’s ready for a nice little bit of allons-y?” The Doctor grinned as he skipped down the stairs and out the door of 221B.  
Sighing with exasperation, Sherlock, John, Sam, and Dean ran out the door after the Doctor. Cas of course didn’t need to trouble himself with running; he would just appear at the cemetery once the others got there.  
A few minutes later, everyone was gathered outside the gates of the cemetery. They were locked, but this of course was not a problem for the Doctor. He pointed his sonic screwdriver at the lock, and it clicked open, making hardly a sound. With another of his sideways grins, the Doctor sauntered through the gates, his trench coat swishing behind him. Not to be outdone, Sherlock turned up the collar of his coat and swaggered through after the Doctor. Rolling his eyes, John went through after him. Suddenly there was a slight flapping sound, and Cas appeared, right behind Dean, once again. Not even bothering to reprimand him, Dean just smiled slightly, gave Cas a friendly pat on the shoulder, and followed John through the gate with Sam right next to him.  
Sam, Dean, and Cas caught up with the rest of the group, and everyone walked in silence until they reached the giant angel statue in the middle of the cemetery. The Doctor was stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes fixed on the statue, entirely unblinking.   
Without taking his eyes from the statue, the Doctor spoke: “Oh, this is way worse than I could ever have imagined, I mean really very bad.”  
Suddenly, from behind the statue came a voice….. “Hello boys.” It said, “Fancy meeting you here.”  
Sam and Dean exchanged worried glances, and then a man stepped out from behind the angel. He was wearing a very tasteful dark suit, and had a relaxed smirk on his face.  
Sam and Dean rolled their eyes in sync, and then Dean replied: “Hey Crowley, what are you doing going international? I thought you had Hell to run, you get homesick?”  
Obviously not affected in the slightest by Deans attempt at macho words Crowley chuckled and then replied: “It is so much more elegant than that. You really have no idea what you’re dealing with this time.”  
Skeptical, Dean answered with a smirk and chuckle of his own, and then he said: “Try me.”  
Crowley still smiling replied: “All right then, if that’s the way you want to do it. I have someone I would like you to meet.”  
With that signal, a second man stepped out from behind the statue. He too wore a suit, but was much paler and skinnier than Crowley. Even from Sam and Dean’s distance, one could see the gleam of insanity in his eyes. Swaggering forward, the man spoke: “Jim Moriarty, hiiii.”  
Sherlock stepped deliberately forward to meet Moriarty: “I thought I might find you here. This whole affair has your mark all over it.”  
With a slightly maniacal laugh Moriarty replied: “Oh I have missed this Sherlock, this little game of ours. Everything else in life is so incredibly dull.”  
Just then, the tones of Staying Alive sounded through the cemetery. Everyone exchanged glances, and then Moriarty removed his phone from his pocket. Turning away as he spoke, Moriarty said: “Sorry, I have to take this.” A few words were exchanged between Moriarty and the mysterious caller, and then he hung up and turned back around. “I just spoke with someone who’s dying to see the Winchesters again, especially Sam.”  
All of the color drained from Sam’s face, and then from behind him came a voice that he had never wanted to hear again….. “Hi Sam, didn’t you miss me? It’s been such a long time.” Turning around, Sam came face to face with Lucifer.  
Chapter 5  
Before Sam could react, Cas was standing in front of him, his angel blade in hand. His eyes glinted with determination and underlying menace, daring Lucifer to test him. Breaking the silence Lucifer intoned: “Oh come on Cas, Sam enjoys having me around. I even helped him with a case once.” Craning around Castiel, Lucifer winked at Sam. Obviously uncomfortable Sam fidgeted, and the muscles in his jaw twitched as he tried to swallow down his fear. Stepping closer to Lucifer Cas replied: “That’s enough brother. Sam and Dean are under my protection now, and I will not let you harm then in anyway. Now leave. Sam. alone.” Each of Cas’ last three words had a forceful stab to them, causing Lucifer to take one step back, entirely shocked by this new side of Castiel.   
Meanwhile, the Doctor stood behind them, his eyes still fixed on the angel. Crowley moved closer to him and began a conversation: “So I hear you’re the last of your race, how does it feel to be left all alone with no one of your kind to turn to?” as Crowley finished his sentence an evil smirk appeared on his face. He had gotten some very valuable information from someone who had told him all about the Doctor and the ancient timelord race, and he knew exactly what to say to hit the Doctor where it hurt most.   
The Doctor’s eyes visibly turned to deep pools of sorrow and rage, but his gaze remained fixed straight ahead. Without moving the Doctor replied: “And here I thought we could avoid violence, but that obviously isn’t going to work with you. Now I’m angry, and trust me, you do not want to see me angry.”  
Crowley now realized that the Doctor was every bit as dangerous as his source had made him sound, although he couldn’t help but notice that he had a rather tasteful sense of fashion.  
Now Crowley spoke: “Well, heaven knows what you plan to do about that angel. Nice suit by the way. And the trench coat is a nice touch, very…… mysterious.” Smiling slightly Crowley turned away to speak with Moriarty.  
Now, the Doctor decided to take action, “Cas!” he shouted, “this has gone on long enough, let’s see if that blade of yours can work on living stone.”  
Reluctant to leave Dean’s side, and Sam unprotected, Cas hesitated for a moment.  
Sensing his conflicting thoughts, Dean comforted: “Don’t worry; we can handle this son of a bitch Cas. Now go help the Doctor get us out of here.”  
Cas began to protest, but then he took one more look at Dean and took comfort in the look of determination and slight nod that Dean gave him. Disappearing briefly, Cas appeared beside the Doctor. With a movement faster than lighting he drove his blade towards the angel, and the stone parted under the knife like butter. A web of tiny cracks appeared throughout the stone, and then the angel exploded with a blinding light, showering everyone within striking distance with razor sharp shards of rock.   
No one made a sound. The cemetery was steeped in shocked silence.   
Suddenly, the Doctor’s face was overtaken by a huge grin, and with a small turn of his head he shouted: “Oh yes! Cas you beauty!” wasting no time he whipped out his sonic screwdriver and sprinted for the gate, shouting as he went: “Dean, Sam, Cas, Sherlock, John….RUN!!!”  
But there was one thing that the Doctor had not accounted for…..the use of guns. As the six sprinted for the gate, gunshots rang out behind them, bullets slamming into the trees, missing each of them in turn by inches. Moriarty had pulled out a gun, and was firing everything he had. In one fluid motion John turned around and pulled out a gun in mid sprint. Taking careful aim, he fired, and the bullet slammed into Moriarty’s arm, causing him to drop his weapon, and the rain of bullets to seize.   
But the danger was not over. Crowley raised his hand and flicked his wrist, causing John to go flying through the air. As he landed, John slammed into a tree with a sickening thud and crumpled to the ground, completely still, blood dripping down his forehead and leaking from the corner of his mouth.  
With an anguished cry, Sherlock screamed John’s name and ran to his side. Kneeling down beside him, Sherlock cradled John’s head in his lap, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes:   
“John, John can you hear me? Please you can’t leave me, not like this. You’re the one true friend I have ever had, the only one who understands me and accepts me for who I am.” Sherlock was trembling and sobbing uncontrollably, rocking back and forth and whimpering. Every once in a while he would mutter John’s name, clenching and unclenching his hand from the sleeve of John’s jacket.   
Realizing that time was running out, Dean shouted: “Cas! Get your ass over there and fix him!” We’ll hold the rest of them off.”  
Appearing beside Sherlock, Cas gently placed his hand on John’s head. Sherlock waited, his eyes fixed on John’s face, gripping his jacket tight and waiting for the slightest sign of movement. The only word that he could manage to force out was “please”, a longing mournful whisper that he repeated over and over again, as if somehow it would bring John back to him.   
Then…..John coughed. Blinking he sat up and looked around, coming face to face with Sherlock’s tear stained face.  
“Sherlock, what happened?”   
Clearing his throat, Sherlock managed to compose himself and explain to John exactly what had happened: “Crowley used some demonic power to throw you into the air, and you hit a tree. I thought that…..” choking on his words Sherlock paused, “I thought that you were dead, but Cas healed you.” And then Sherlock dissolved completely. Tears streamed down his face, and he rested a trembling hand on John’s shoulder. John covered Sherlock’s hand with his own, and turned to Cas, thanking him. Turning back to Sherlock he whispered: “Shhhh, Sherlock it’s ok, I’m not leaving you.” and collapsed into Sherlock’s arms.  
Chapter 6  
Giving Sherlock and John a few more minutes to recover, The Doctor, Sam, Dean, and Cas stood back to back scanning the area for any sign of angels, Moriarty, Lucifer or Crowley. All of a sudden an angel appeared about 20 feet from them, with Lucifer following calmly behind. Observing the danger they were in, Sherlock slowly helped John to his feet, and they moved to stand next to the others. Realizing that they would never outrun the angels AND Lucifer Cas suggested that they all grab a hold of him and he would transport them all to safety. Sherlock, John, the Doctor, Sam, and Dean all placed a hand on one of Cas’ shoulders, and in an instant, they had disappeared.   
Lucifer stopped in his tracks and turned to Moriarty and Crowley who had appeared behind him.  
“Castiel must have transported them all back to their base, we can’t follow them unless we know where we’re going.”  
With a maniacal smile and tiny chuckle Moriarty turned to Lucifer: “I know exactly where they’re going, 221B Baker Street. I’ve been there myself. Take us there immediately, before they have time to escape to a different location.”  
Rolling his eyes, Lucifer obliged, and the three disappeared. All was silent in the graveyard.  
As soon as Cas transported them all to Baker Street, they sprinted onto the roof and into the Tardis.   
“Everyone in quickly!” the Doctor shouted. “They’re bound to be right on our tails and we need to be very far away by the time they find us.”


End file.
